The Pirate Lord: Aristocrat. Rogue. Spy.

by Catherine Lloyd

  “Splendid. Mr. Hawkins can assign him to me as my cabin boy. Kindly have his sleeping hammock moved to my quarters.”

  Jon ground his teeth. “We have already spoken at length on this matter and my answer is still the same. The boy is a member of my crew and will be treated as such.”

  “You insolent cur!” She actually stamped her foot in temper. Jon was astonished. “I came to you in great need and you trapped me here! And now you are wasting precious time in playing games.”

  “It is not my time wasted. I certainly do not mind wasting yours.” Neither temper nor tears would win Jon over to her side, but he enjoyed Lady Gage’s display of passion nonetheless.

  The young lady was about to say something and then seemed to change her mind. Stag witnessed a marvelous adjustment in her expression as she changed tactics.

  “Perhaps we should continue this negotiation in private, Captain Stag.”

  She removed her cloak and Jon was taken aback by seeing her beauty up close. Her eyes were nut brown, shining and alive with fire and curiosity. Her thick dark hair tumbled every which way from its comb. Her eyes were shadowed as though she had not rested in days. Lady Bronwyn had the look of a weary courtesan. Jon’s heart lurched when her fingers trembled ever so slightly as she fixed her hair.

  “I have information that is of great value.” She paused with a calculated air. “But perhaps you are not the right man. It would take a naval tactician to make use of my knowledge and you are only a privateer after easy treasure. I doubt you have the seamanship.”

  Her arrow had found its mark. Jon witnessed the tension in his men as they tried to catch his response. “And I doubt you have anything of value to tell me,” Jon said evenly. It took some work to control his emotions. She confused and irritated him. “However, I am at your service. We shall pursue this discussion in my quarters. Hawkins, if you will show her ladyship to the great cabin, I’ll be along presently.”

  “What about the boy?” she had the audacity to ask.

  Jon controlled his temper. “He can be put to work with James clearing out your sleeping quarters—if that will not impose upon you too much, my lady.”

  She glanced down at the stricken boy who nodded his head.

  “I suppose it will have to do,” Lady Gage said haughtily. “Lead the way, Mr. Hawkins.”

  The girl sailed off toward the cabin door and once again Jon had to bite his tongue to keep from losing his temper. He’d made more than enough concessions without receiving anything in return. It was high time her ladyship understood the captain of the Black Adder was not in her service. She was a rare beauty; Jon Stag would enjoy bringing Lady Bronwyn to heel.

  §

  MR. HAWKINS walked ahead of her assuming the half-crabbed position one needed to navigate the lower deck. She followed him to the stern of the ship, listening as he grumbled loudly over his cursed bad luck to be aboard ship with a woman. When he might’ve expected to retire in peace, he faced doom in the sunset of his career, jinxed by a headstrong female.

  “What career would that be, Mr. Hawkins? Do you mean the taking of small boys from their families? Then I am glad to be the harbinger of your doom. I hope this vessel sinks to the bottom of the sea with you on it.” Bronwyn smiled with blithe unconcern for old sailor’s horror.

  “So ‘tis a curse you’ll be laying on me—a curse for doing my duty, for following the captain’s orders!” The man was affronted. “You’d best not be making an enemy of me; your name won’t protect you here. Jon Stag promises to give you to the men if you prove false.”

  “And I promise to stick a dagger in your gullet if you persist in threatening me,” she hissed.

  Bronwyn caught Mr. Hawkins by the throat and shoved him up against a post. His neck was pleasingly scrawny. She gave it a light squeeze so he would know what she was capable of. “Pass this message along to the crew of the Black Adder: If any man so much as touches me, he’d best sleep with one eye open.”

  She released him with a shove. “I want the boy, Roddy, in my cabin. He will not bunk in the hold with the other men.”

  “The captain has given orders,” Hawkins protested. He was rubbing his neck, deeply aggrieved by the attack on his person.

  “Then you will persuade the captain to change them.” Bronwyn touched the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, Mr. Hawkins. I have a bit of a temper. One never knows what will set me off.” She laughed lightly. “As you say, a female aboard the Black is a jinx and every night I spend aboard this ship, the danger increases. Sadly, I will not leave if my demands are not met. So, what do you say? Shall you and I try to be friends?”

  Bronwyn smiled guilelessly but the older man knew a threat when he heard one.

  “I’ll have the lad’s hammock moved at once, my lady.”

  “Thank you, sir. That is most gracious of you.”

  §

  BRONWYN STEPPED into Captain Stag’s quarters and stood stock-still in the middle of the spacious room until Mr. Hawkins had left and closed the door behind him.

  She wandered to the berth that was built-in under the grand mullioned window. A crest of stained glass was in its center and the colors shone like jewels on the white mattress.

  Bronwyn began to shake. Now that she had found Roddy and made him safe from harm, her bravado was failing. How was she to keep up this pretense for the remainder of the voyage? Her only leverage was her status as the daughter of a wealthy military general. If Stag doubted her story even for a moment, she would be in danger. For a pirate, he was remarkably astute, she thought ruefully.

  The Black was sailing farther and farther away from Penzance. For the first time, Bronwyn began to feel defeat. Her disguise was a fragile one at best, cobbled together from snippets of news from the colonies. She remembered reading that Gage had closed the ports last year and dissolved the provincial assembly—an act that had caused uproar on both sides of the Atlantic. Benjamin Franklin was actively publishing a call to arms, while Edmund Burke was counseling respect and conciliation with their English brethren in the Colonies. She had followed the story with keen interest and could recall enough detail to sound convincing. But if Captain Treacher knew General Gage personally, Bronwyn’s cover would instantly fall apart.

  She considered the probable consequences of discovery. Arrest perhaps? No, she had done nothing wrong, but Stag could separate her from Roddy. Keep the boy aboard the Black and abandon Bronwyn to Captain Treacher. That was the most likely outcome of exposure.

  The door closed behind her. Jonathon Stag had come into the room. Bronwyn did not turn around but wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and waited. Her stomach clenched.

  “Tell me this first,” he said in a low voice that sent a shiver up her spine. “Have you been lying to me?”

  Her mouth dried. Bronwyn slowly turned to face him. The jeweled light fell over his handsome features. “Yes,” she breathed, bracing herself to do battle.

  Stag raked his fingers through his hair and he swore under his breath. “I bloody well knew it! You have no information. The performance was a ruse to bully Mr. Hawkins into doing your bidding. My first mate tells me you now have a cabin boy to wait on you, hand and foot.”

  She took a moment to realize the misunderstanding and to recover her composure.

  “Well? Are you going to stand there gawping or are you going to answer me?”

  Chapter Six

  FEIGNING UNCONCERN, Bronwyn’s fingers went to the fastening on her cloak. She removed the garment, forgetting the plunging neckline of her gown. Jon Stag’s eyes burned holes in her flesh causing Bronwyn to blush scarlet. “I have conscripted the cabin boy to assist me.”

  “I gave a direct order which you circumvented!” His perfect jaw twitched. “Aboard my ship you will do as I say. We haven’t the manpower to waste a boy catering to your whims. I shall expect to see him at his regular post at daybreak or I shall have him flogged.”

  Her heart slammed in her chest. “The boy is ne
cessary and it will go well with you when I tell my father of your kindness.”

  Captain Stag’s eyebrows shot up and his mouth lifted to a calculated smile that made Bronwyn nervous. “I don’t give a damn about your father’s approval. I cannot spare the boy—regardless of how violently you object to the situation.”

  “And I cannot spare the boy, Captain Stag—regardless of the inconvenience it causes you,” she shot back.

  Stag rubbed his unshaven chin. “We seem to be at an impasse. You have deprived me of a man and I can ill-afford to lose any. However, I’ll instruct Hawkins to find a way to work around his loss, if you are determined to have the boy in your service.”

  “I am.” Bronwyn sighed with heavy relief.

  “Of course, I shall need something in return.”

  She shifted her weight and avoided his eye. “As you have already noted, I do not have enough money to reimburse you at this time. When we are in America, you will be amply rewarded.”

  “I wish to be rewarded now. You will retain the cabin boy and I will retain you in exchange. You will come to my bed every night that we are at sea. It is a reasonable offer. I have lost a crew member. Bedding you will make up the difference.” He took another step closer. She could feel his breath on her neck. “It will certainly make me more cheerful.”

  Her pulse raced. He was bluffing. No civilized man could make such a proposal. “I must refuse because—because I—I am a married woman.” Bronwyn blurted out yet another lie. Deeper and deeper, I shall never keep up! “I cannot betray my husband.”

  “Married? Humph. Odd that you do not go by your husband’s name.” He quirked an eyebrow.

  “That was my father’s idea. Until I was reunited with my husband, Father thought I would be better protected if I sailed under his name.”

  Stag made a face of feigned sorrow. “Clearly, he was wrong. Well, that is unfortunate. However, I’ve bedded wives with less cause for committing adultery than you have. I will not beg, nor will I force you. The boy will return to the hold and his regular duties. Those are my terms. I never give something without getting something in return.”

  Bronwyn felt her face burn. She was convinced her very flesh was a map exposing the myriad of feelings she was suffering—predominantly the terror that Roddy would die. Her brother would not survive a night in that airless place. The way he had clung to her expressed more than words could of how frightened he’d been.

  “I’ll call Hawkins and have the boy taken below tonight and save you the trouble.”

  Captain Stag’s power lay in the certain knowledge that he would carry out his threat. Bronwyn had not a doubt that if she refused him, Roddy would be sent below to fight for every breath, crowded in on all sides by the worst sorts of men.

  “That won’t be necessary,” she said coldly. “I’ll give you what you want.”

  The words strangled in her throat. This was madness. Jon Stag was mad or evil or both.

  “You will?” His brows shot up and his lip curled to a sneering grin. “Well, that was easier than I imagined it would be. I didn’t expect you to be so willing to make your husband a cuckold. But then you are only a woman after all.”

  She hated the look of him in that moment, despised him most passionately. Hate, and thinking of the pistol in the valise at her feet, gave her strength.

  “When would you like to receive your payment?” Her chin shot up defiantly.

  Stag moved behind his desk and sat down. “Tonight. I take wine at six bells. I shall expect you then.”

  “As soon as that?” She stalled for time. “Later in the voyage would be better. I should like to rest up for the … er … act.”

  “You talk as though you have never been with a man before, Lady Gage. You are married, are you not?” Captain Stag sighed and raised his hands in surrender. “All right, I’ll give you tonight and tomorrow night to ‘rest up’ as you put it, but that is all,” he said brusquely. “I mean to get every penny’s worth out of this arrangement before I deliver you to the Dauntless—and your husband.”

  “You are a disgusting excuse for a man,” she croaked.

  Stag nodded absently as he picked up his quill and bent over the ship’s log. “I doubt I shall improve upon further acquaintance. Now, if you will excuse me, my lady, I must return to work.”

  §

  JON STAG watched Lady Gage snatch up her cloak and run from the room, slamming the door behind her. He was crossing the line with this one and he did not know why. She had raised his ire by defying him in front of his men. It was reasonable that he’d wanted to punish her.

  But this was something more.

  Her defense of the wharf rat was charming. Misguided, but he admired her for it. He had not given the boy much thought, or any of the lads aboard the Black. Their lot was no different than his had been nine years ago.

  Jon’s thoughts drifted back to the night he was taken for ransom. Seventeen years of age and sailing to France to meet his father and future in-laws. Young master Stagholt was engaged to be married to a young lady from a wealthy family when the vessel he was traveling on was attacked by a French corsair. Jon had used his name and his father’s title to save his life, but when the time came, his father refused to pay the ransom.

  Lord Stagholt’s first born son would inherit the title and his lordship balked at paying to recover son number two. Jon’s bride-to-be might have been swayed but her parents held firm. It was bad luck, but they could not give into pirates or no vessel would be safe on the high seas.

  Logic and politics prevailed over emotional attachment. Jonathon was abandoned to whatever death the pirate had in store for him. It was a cruel awakening and one that Stag (as he became known) never forgot. He offered his life in service to the pirate captain and discovered that he had a taste for adventure. And high seas piracy.

  Jon wondered now what sort of man he might have become if he’d had a champion such as Bronwyn Gage.

  She interested him.

  Like as not he was bored and only wanted diversion. It would come to naught. Lady Gage was married.

  Stag flung himself back in his chair and gave the papers on his desk a black look.

  §

  BRONWYN FOUND Roddy hard at work with James removing wooden caskets of rum and heaps of yellowed maps from the room. Greeted by her brother’s shining face and his infectious joy, Bronwyn’s anxiety melted away and wanting to keep him that way restored her fight.

  She would find out Stag’s weakness and when she did, she would show him just what a woman was capable of when her loved ones were threatened.

  Bronwyn hastily slid the valise in a gap under the berth and then turned to her little brother. “What are you about, young master Roderick? Is he a help or a hindrance, James?”

  “He’s a fine help, my lady. This lad has done the work of three boys, haven’t you, mate?”

  “I have!” Roddy beamed at his sister. “They have ever so many caskets of rum, Winnie.”

  Bronwyn quickly corrected him. “You must call me Lady Gage, remember. You’ve done a splendid job of making the room comfortable. James, you will not forget to install Roddy’s hammock, will you? I have spoken to Captain Stag and he has given his permission. Guess what, Roddy? You are to be my cabin boy and sleep in this room. What do you think of that?”

  Roddy flung himself at Bronwyn and half-squeezed the breath out of her. She stroked his head and hugged him hard. “You’ve had quite a scare but everything is going to be all right now,” she whispered. “You were a brave boy; you’ve made me ever so proud.”

  “But you will not leave me again.”

  “No, I will not. Not ever. We are going to be together from now on, until you are all grown up and then you shall take care of me.”

  Her mind was made up. She would find a way to manage Captain Stag. He wanted her in his bed. Well, he would have her. And Bronwyn would make sure he regretted every second of it.

  §

  “SHE’S VIOLENT,” complained
Hawkins. “I’m telling you, that girl has a nasty violent streak. She threatened to kill us all in our sleep if we so much as touched her and she wished the Black at the bottom of the sea. Whatever you say about it, she’s not worth the trouble she’s going to bring this ship.”

  Jon poked at the ample supply of beef on his dinner plate. “Do you mean to say that slip of a girl got the better of you, Hawkins? Come now. There is no need to be ashamed. You did right to let her win.”

  “I did not let her do anything!” Hawkins blustered. “I would have fought her, given half the chance. She got me by the throat and was like to kill me as not. The lady has skills that do not line up. She knows how to fight and fight to the death. How many fine ladies receive that sort of training? She’s either a spy or a witch bent on mischief.”

  Jon flung down his fork and pounded the table. “She is the chink in the Dauntless’ armor, the Trojan horse by which I can gain access to the gold and all the blasted superstition in the world is not going to prevent me from using her to that end!”

  “You see what she’s done to you already and not one night aboard!”

  “It is not Bronwyn who is ruining my supper—it is you! Your concerns are duly noted, Mr. Hawkins. Now, give me some peace, damn you. We have a week to observe Lady Gage before we catch up to the Dauntless. If in that time she does nothing to change my mind, I mean to go ahead with the plan—with or without your blessing.”

  Hawkins jammed his cocked hat on his head and stormed out of the great cabin.

  Jon leaned back wearily and rubbed his fingers through his hair. A headache pressed behind his eyes. He stared at his plate, his appetite gone.

  He picked it up and walked into the corridor. The door to Lady Bronwyn’s cabin was ajar. Jon pushed it wider and stepped inside. The cabin boy was sitting on the edge of the bunk.